Part 6

Among Islamites the potency of sin is not recognized; evil is only an individual, not a historical, power; hence there is no need of redemption, but only of personal works on the basis of prophetic instruction. Mohammed is only a teacher, not an atoner. God and man remain strictly external to and separate from each other. God, no less individually conceived of than man, comes into no real communion with man; and as moral, acts not as influenced by such a communion, but only as an isolated individual. The ideal basis of the moral is faith in God and in his Prophet; the moral life, conceived as mainly consisting in external works, is not a fruit of received salvation, but a means for the attainment of the same. Pious works, particularly prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, and pilgrimage to Mecca, work salvation directly of themselves. Man has nothing to receive from God but the Word, and nothing to do for God but good works; of inner sanctification there is no thought. Thus, among Islamites today we find, instead of true humility, only proud work-righteousness. Nothing but the enjoyment of wine, of swine-flesh, of the blood of strangled animals, and games of chance are forbidden.

After this summary of the real character of Mohammedan ethics, an account of its practical teaching and effect will make the picture more vivid to the reader, although still darker.

THE MOSLEM IDEA OF SIN

Moslem doctors define sin as "a conscious act of a responsible being against known law." They divide sin into "great" and "little" sins. Some say there are seven great sins: idolatry, murder, false charges of adultery, wasting the substance of orphans, taking interest on money, desertion from Jihad, and disobedience to parents. Mohammed himself said, "The greatest of sins before God is that you call another like unto the God who created you, or that you murder your child from an idea that he or she will eat your victuals, or that you commit adultery with your neighbor's wife."

All sins except great ones are easily forgiven, as God is merciful and clement. What Allah (God) allows is not sin. What Allah or his Prophet forbids is sin, even should he forbid what seems right to the conscience. It is as great an offense to pray with unwashed hands as to tell a lie, and pious Moslems who nightly break the seventh commandment will shrink from a tin of English meat for fear they will be defiled by eating swine's flesh. Oh, what ignorance! The false prophet Mohammed said: "One cent of usury which a man takes for his money is more grievous than thirty-six fornications, and whosoever has done so is worthy of hell-fire. Allah is merciful in winking at the sins of his favorites (the prophets and those who fight his battles), but is a quick avenger of all infidels and idolaters."

THE LOW IDEAL OF CHARACTER OF ISLAM

A stream can not rise higher than its source. The measure of the moral stature of Mohammed is the source and foundation of all moral ideas of Islam. His conduct is the standard of character. We need not be surprized, therefore, that the ethical standard is so low among his followers. Raymond Lull, the first missionary to Moslems, used to show in his preachings that Mohammed had none of the seven cardinal virtues, and was guilty of the seven deadly sins. He may have gone too far, but it would not be difficult to show that pride, lust, envy, and anger were prominent traits in the Prophet's character.

To take an example, what Mohammed taught regarding truthfulness is convincing. There are two authenticated sayings of his given in the traditions on the subject of lying: "When a servant of God tells a lie, his guardian angels move away to the distance of a mile because of the badness of its smell." "Verily a lie is allowable in three cases--to women, to reconcile friends, and in war." It is no wonder, then, that among the Prophet's followers and imitators "truth-telling is one of the lost arts" and that perjury is too common to be noticed. As I pass in the streets of Cairo, many times I hear the Moslems utter the word, b'ism Allah, "in the name of God," while the speaker knows very well that his words are altogether a lie.

There are certain things which the ethics of Islam allow, of which it is also necessary to write. They exist, not in spite of Islam, but because of Islam, and because of the teachings of its sacred book.

POLYGAMY, DIVORCE, AND SLAVERY

These three evils are so closely intertwined with the Mohammedan religion, its book, and its prophet, that they can never be wholly abandoned without doing violence to the teaching of the Koran and the example of Mohammed.

A Moslem who lives up to his privileges and follows the example of their saints can have four wives and any number of slave concubines; can divorce at his pleasure; can remarry his divorced wives by a special, though abominable, arrangement; and in addition to all this, if he belong to the Shiah sect he can contract marriages for fun (metaa), which are temporary. The Koran permits a Moslem to marry four legal wives, and to have as many concubines, or slave-girls, as he can support. In Turkey, Moslems call a woman cow.

In Islam, marriage is a kind of slavery; for the wife becomes the slave (rakeek) of her husband, and it is her duty absolutely to obey him in everything he requires of her, except in what is contrary to the laws of Islam. Wife-beating is allowed by the Koran.

The other ethic, which is much worse than all the rest, is slave-trade. According to the Koran, slavery and the slave-trade are divine institutions. From the Koran we learn that all male and female slaves, either married or single, taken as plunder in war are the lawful property of the master, his chattel. Slave-traffic is not only allowed but legislated for by Mohammedan law and made sacred by the example of the Prophet.

For five hundred years Islam has been supreme in Turkey, the fairest and richest portion of the Old World, and what is the result today? The treasury is bankrupt; progress is blocked; "instead of wealth, universal poverty; instead of comeliness, rags; instead of commerce, beggary."

Such are the chief tenets and religious requirements of Mohammedans in Egypt, Turkey, and in other countries where the people believe in the Koran. Christianity exists in Turkey by a kind of sufferance. The Turks hate, ridicule, foster pride and passion toward Christians; the ignorant populace are taught by their learned men to regard themselves infinitely better than any Christian. The mosques are generally the hotbeds of fanaticism. The usual manner of speaking of the Christian was and still is to call him, in Turkey, "Imansig Kevour" (unbeliever); in Egypt, "Nasrani," (Nazarene), or "Ya din el kalb," (you dog). Peace, harmony, and happiness in the homes of Mohammedans are of a very transitory nature.

Mohammedans may be stedfast and unswerving in their faith and yet guilty of some of the most heinous crimes. Having lived among them, I have had many opportunities to learn of their treachery as well as of their sterling qualities. The Mohammedans are in great need of the gospel of Jesus Christ, which is a gospel of pardon, peace, purity, righteousness, and true wisdom.

Notwithstanding the fact that from their earliest childhood their ideas are perverted by their traditions and false teaching, and their consciences defiled through their vain religion, the melting power of the Spirit of God reaches some of their hearts when the gospel of Jesus Christ is preached. Their lives of deception bring to them many a snare, yet from among their ranks in the Orient have come some of the most staunch ministers of the gospel. Gross darkness once reigned throughout the land of Egypt, and now fervent prayers are ascending to the throne of God for the light of the gospel to drive the spiritual darkness from the hearts of the people.

A Daughter's Faith Rewarded

EXPERIENCE NUMBER 9

I was brought up by Christian parents, that is, they were strict church-going people; but I never knew what it was to have a change of heart, though I feared God and did at times try to draw near to him.

It was after I graduated from school that I met those who believe in living holy lives. I was very much impressed with them, but I did not give my heart to God at that time. I continued to meet them and after some months became convicted that I was a sinner and under the wrath of God. Having attended church and Sunday-school from childhood, I had considered myself a Christian; but when the Bible standard was lifted up before me, I soon saw my true condition.

One day while alone I yielded myself fully to God, and he received me into his family. I did not know at that time, though I was very happy in my new-found love, what a treasure I had really found; but the eighteen years I have already spent in His service verifies to me that the path of the righteous shineth more and more unto the perfect day.

A spirit of love and gratitude begets a spirit of service. I wanted to do something for God, so began visiting the sick. Soon I felt a desire to go into the work of the Lord, but this step was much opposed in my home, my family having had a life of worldly honor mapped out for me. I waited, hoping a way would open for me to go, but it seemed my friends were becoming more opposed to the life I had chosen. I was forced to leave home against the wishes of my friends, especially my dear mother, but I see more clearly now than I did then that God's hand was in it and that he was leading me.

Mother was so displeased that she took steps to disinherit me, but afterwards, through the persuasion of others, she relented. She also forbade me the privilege of returning home, but in this she also relented. I wondered at this change in my dear mother, who was one of the best of mothers, for this new life I had received seemed to have made a great gulf between us. It certainly had made a marked change in the once rebellious, self-willed girl, and I could not understand why my mother, who had spent many anxious moments because of my wilfulness, was not rejoicing instead of opposing me. I now see that my course thwarted her worldly ambitions for me; hence the bitterness.

I had spent a number of years working for the Master, which were very profitable and beneficial to my soul. To me it was like God's training-college. My mother came to visit me sometimes, vainly hoping I would return with her. She told me that if I would just return home she would buy me worldly vanities, such as fine dresses, etc., which I had once loved. She could not understand when I told her I did not want them any more. She even told me I could receive the attentions of a certain young man who for her sake I had once refused. But that fancy also had been removed far from me, and I praised God as I explained to her what a change had been wrought in me.

About one year after this my mother had a severe nervous attack. She came to where I was living, saying that she wanted to make her peace with God and die. Some ministers and I had prayer with her, and God graciously pardoned her soul. Oh the joy that filled my heart when I saw my dear mother humble herself before the Lord! She not only received pardon, but received a divine touch in her body also. She became a bold witness before all our friends and relatives to what God had done for her. It seemed she could never praise him enough. Though she was a woman of very strong character and personality, she became as gentle and teachable as a little child. Her nature seemed to be entirely changed. While I write this, tears of gratitude flow because of the greatness of God's salvation. She spent a few happy months here below, and then God took her.

Missionary Experiences in British West Indies

EXPERIENCE NUMBER 10

It was a warm, sultry morning late in December. The tropical air was scarcely fanned by a breeze. The missionary heard the peculiar tapping of the postman at the gate and hurried to get his morning mail. He took the single letter that was handed him, and with a pleasant nod to the postman broke the seal as he stepped back to the veranda.

It was a long letter; so before reading it the man sank into a chair and glanced away to the gleaming sea; but meeting only the dazzling light there, he let his eyes rest upon the distant blue-green mountains for a moment. Then for some time he was occupied with the contents of this lengthy letter. It was written in a neat, scholarly manner, and the missionary noted it all as he read.

As he finished reading, a bright-faced woman came through the garden with a baby in her arms. "Come here, Jennie," he said; and his wife came quickly to him. "Here is a letter, Jennie, that requires very careful answering. You know how busy I am; so I will commit this into your care. This person, a Mr. K. L. Jones, has asked many questions on the church and other points of doctrine." He looked up as he spoke, and, finding the baby holding out its chubby arms to him, he took it and handed the letter to his wife.

Thoughtfully she took it and began reading. She loved to write letters, and this, she felt, was her special part of the work. But here she perceived she had a task that was very difficult; for the writer, evidently a scholar, had put forth a dozen numbered questions that must be carefully answered or this dear soul would be hindered from walking in the truth. God would give the needed wisdom, she knew, and she folded the letter back into its envelope and sat meditating on the different points he had raised. After a while, she asked:

"How was the meeting last night?"

"Very good! Brother Owen spoke, and he did very well indeed. He used the text: 'Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples.' Several came forward for help afterwards. Ah, by the way, do you remember Sister Tilton? She was out to meeting last night."

"Sister Tilton? She must be a new sister!"

"Ah, well, perhaps we did not tell you about her. This young girl came to meeting once some time ago, but afterwards became very ill. Her folks wanted the doctor for her, but she refused, not telling them why. But as her sickness increased, they became alarmed and insisted on calling the doctor. But the girl still refused the medicine. The doctor said she would probably not live. Her people begged to know the reason for her refusal to take the medicine, and she then said that she had been to the church of God meeting and had been made very happy, and that she believed if they would send for the elders of that church she should be healed. So word came, and Brother Owen went and anointed her in accordance with Jas. 5:14, 15. She has been getting better right along, and tonight she was at the meeting. She is saved now and seems to have a clear experience."

"Thank God!" was the hearty response. "How I should have loved to be at the meeting last night!--but for the present here is my meeting, and here is my work," and, catching up the baby and waving the letter happily, she ran into the house at the sound of children's voices within.

After the baby had been bathed and put to sleep, and the other children were sitting quietly at play on the side veranda, Sister Patience settled herself with her Bible at her husband's desk to answer this important letter. Bowing her head she besought God for this soul and for wisdom to answer his difficult questions aright. Then taking up her pen, she began the letter. She was so glad to write; she loved writing; and the joy of it always seemed to get into the very letters and shine back from the pages. She addressed Mr. Jones cordially and kindly, and then took up the substance of the letter itself. In calling his attention to certain truths she referred to the Bible time after time, and again and again she prayed, for the letter seemed particularly important to her. Long she meditated over some of the knotty questions, endeavoring to find the wisest explanation. Sometimes she was interrupted by the children just when she most needed to be quiet; but she had learned that interruptions often come as blessings in disguise, for often God had given thoughts that were clearer and better when she had patiently gone to attend to the children, and when she was free to return to her work she had found an answer preparing itself in her mind without an effort on her part. Thus, after several hours of close application, she finished the letter and sent it off with a trusting spirit.

Sister Patience hoped to receive an answer to her letter immediately, but week after week passed, and there was no response. Dread began to creep upon her that this soul would not accept the truth. She took him earnestly to God many times and trusted that God would in some way overrule. However, as four months passed and she had not heard again, she gave him over as being no longer interested.

Then it was that one morning there came, to her surprize, a letter in the same fine handwriting. How cordially he wrote! He thanked her for answering the former letter so fully and said he had been searching and proving her answers by the Word during the long interval. And now there were still a few points remaining that he disagreed with her upon; again she found a few numbered questions to answer.

These, like the first, were very shrewd, puzzling questions, and only sagacious answers would satisfy the inquirer. Again Sister Patience labored over the letter with prayer and meditation. Then, leaning hard upon God, she wrote another encouraging letter setting forth expositions of Scripture as clearly as possible. This time she invited her correspondent to a series of meetings they were expecting to hold during the coming winter season, when they hoped to have with them one or two ministers from America for a short period.

Again she waited long for an answer; but this time she did not give him up. Several months passed, and then one of the brethren, a colporteur, came. He had been away for several months, and Sister Patience was very glad to see him.

"And tell me now, Brother Delworth," she said, after the first greetings were over, "where have you been all this time?"

"Mostly in Arendon and Lawney. I went from Panville to Mayfield, and from there to Paldings."

"Paldings! You were at Paldings? Do you know one K. L. Jones?" asked Sister Patience with great interest.

"Ah yes, a fine old gentleman, a school-teacher. He is saved. I sold him some books. He seems very much interested. And, by the way, he asked me to say to you when I should see you that he hoped to come over to the meeting next month, when the brethren are here from America. You will hear from him soon."

The time was drawing near for the coming of the brethren from America. Arrangements had been made for a meeting during their stay, which would be only for a few days. And then one day a letter came from Brother Jones inquiring as to the date of the meeting, and saying that if possible he should like to attend it. So again Sister Patience wrote him, urging him to be at the meeting, if possible.

Thus it was that during the exciting days of the meeting, when many from different parts of the country had gathered in to meet the brethren from America in this meeting, Sister Patience first met Brother Jones. It happened in this way: One morning before meeting-time, she was passing through the little sitting-room in her home, when she noticed a fine-looking native man of venerable appearance sitting at one side of the room. People were all about him, but he was looking over some tracts that had been handed him. Making her way to him, she said:

"Good morning, Brother, I have not met you before, have I?"

"Ah, no," he said, and, quickly rising, he gave her a courteous bow. "Can this be Sister Patience? My name is K. L. Jones, of Paldings."

"How glad I am to meet you!" she replied. And then followed an animated conversation in which she was able to recognize and admire the fine qualities of his matured mind. Finally he expressed the desire to speak with the foreign brethren himself, and so an audience was arranged for him after the next service. Then it was, Sister Patience learned afterwards, that Brother Jones inquired deeply into the subjects of sanctification and baptism. Later in the day it was announced that there would be a baptismal service early the next morning to accommodate Brother Jones, who was to return home by an early train.

Some years have passed since then. God has wonderfully used the dear old brother, and a congregation has been raised up about him, who look up to him as their pastor. These are backward mountain people where he has labored, yet such has been his patience and faithfulness and love that they have become established in holiness and truth. Brother Jones, as we call him, is becoming feeble now, but he is still standing faithful as the shepherd of this little flock, faithful unto death.

Does it pay to use patience and prayer when dealing with precious souls? Ah yes; eternity alone can tell all that it means.

The Rescue of an Australian Lad

EXPERIENCE NUMBER 11

It was in the town of Goulbourne, New South Wales, Australia, that I began my career in life. Until I reached the age of four years, a prosperous father provided the comforts of a good home, but a great change took place upon my suddenly being left fatherless. A few months later found me in a little town on the St. Lawrence River, in the Providence of Ontario, Canada. I had accompanied my mother to this place, but she soon placed me with a strange family and went to a distant city.

As I was now separated from every family tie, life began in real earnest. It was also the beginning of a record of many interesting and often sad experiences extending over a number of years. In my wanderings in different parts of Canada and in many localities of the United States, the incidents varied all the way from being rescued from drowning to landing in jail as a vagrant. Space forbids a detailed account of my experience, which to me affords material for interesting and often regretful recollection. It may, however, all be summed up and described as analogous with the casting of an innocent infant into the mighty Niagara River to be swept along at the mercy of the on-rushing and maddening current, which knows no relenting, but bears its victim to an untimely end over the brink of the mighty falls. There destruction on the ragged rocks below awaits it unless an unseen hand should miraculously dip into the water and save that form for life and service.

Thank God, in his tender mercy he stretched forth his hand to rescue my poor, lost, helpless soul from the turbulent rapids of sin when I was seventeen years of age. He set me on the solid rock of his truth and gave me the Holy Spirit as an eternal guide and propelling power. He has proved to be a comforter in whom I can safely put my trust when stemming the rising tide of unbelief and doubt.

It is with thanksgiving that I can at the present time recount the divine care of which I have been the object, so far in my pilgrimage through life. I rejoice to be a partaker of the Father's love, which is pure, warm, and changeless. There is an abiding assurance of safety so long as I walk in the path of obedience to his will and trust implicitly in his mighty power to keep my feet while I take steps toward the threshold of heaven. I am grateful, also, for a soul-conviction that the most worthy, most desirable and glorious life is the one that finds its outlet in the glad service of love to God and discovers complete happiness in serving others. A soul without Christ is like an idle straw driven at the mercy of the wind, but the soul redeemed through the blood of Jesus will experience a sweet essence that turns the unfruitful life into a garden of unspeakable delights.

Heathen Customs in China

EXPERIENCE NUMBER 12